From the time I was a child <br />filled with curiosity and awe <br />I followed your rotation closely with my eyes. <br />Your magic must be hidden inside your metal box. <br />You stomp and shake about <br />and yell to those without. <br />Such violence with each slosh and thump, I wonder if you’re drowning. <br />But soon your tantrum resides <br />and my clothes are fresh... and damp. <br />No matter how I dirtied them, you scrubbed them clean. <br />You stand still, unmoved. <br />So long have you aided me. You never quit! <br />But now you’ve died, and I must buy anew. <br />Noble Washer!<br /><br />Daniel Young<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-ode-to-the-washing-machine/
